The Team
by the point
Summary: Robin learns to follow, Cyborg learns to live, Beast Boy learns to settle, Starfire learns to lead, and Raven learns to feel. It's been a year since they've been apart - but, as Raven says, they will never be /apart/. Before the Young Justice, there was the Teen Titans.
1. 00: Apart

**Author's Note: Before we start, this is a Teen Titans and Young Justice crossover fanfiction. I have seen all the episodes of both series thus far, but have not seen Teen Titans for years. For the sake of this story, I would appreciate it if readers point out flaws or inconsistencies.**

**First and foremost, I am a Teen Titans fan through and through. Please don't be upset if I focus on a particular team. Hint/TeenTitans/hint.**

**Secondly, Young Justice is good, but I don't feel as attached to the characters. Thus, most of the characters in this story will retain some of their back stories and personalities from Teen Titans. I will endeavour to merge both TT and YJ characters for the best possible storytelling and for it to make sense.**

**Thirdly, this first chapter is posted in the Teen Titans section on FictionPress for a wider readership. From the second chapter onwards, you will be able to find this story posted under the crossover section of Teen Titans and Young Justice.**

**Cheers,**

**the point**

#

**00: Apart**

JUMP CITY

December 8, 06:47 PST

He watched the ocean ebb and flow from the boulders surrounding Titans Tower. It was not yet daylight, but strands of feeble light could be perceived from the horizon. The moon was dissipating, the stars already snuffed, and there were small snowflakes trailing down from the sky. Across the waters, their city stood tall and proud in straight towers and quaint shops. He felt like he was choking that morning.

He opened his communicator: 06:50 PST.

He stepped back from the windows — one last look at the rising sun — and into the kitchen. His steel-toed boots were soundless on the ceramic tiles as he filled the kettle and set it to boil. The tower was silent, save for the coastal winds passing by and the water in the kettle rising in temperature; the television was shut off, the game system laid motionless, and no one was awake save for him and one other.

He was in the kitchen and she on the roof.

The kettle _clicked_. The water was at the right temperature. He went to the cupboards and produced two mugs. He felt her move and readied the teas — green, 175 degrees Fahrenheit, steeped for three minutes — just as she favoured. Quietly, he set one mug at one end of the kitchen island and set his own at the other. He was being a coward, being so far away, but he needed the distance to hold himself steady. When she neared, he took pains to place walls around himself and close his thoughts from her. He was choking himself.

He straightened upon her arrival, her dark cape ghosting along the edges of the walls and floors. She was just as quiet as he, just as observative and calculating. Which is why, when she came to a careful halt at the kitchen's peripheral, he did not at once meet her eyes.

"How was your call?" she asked.

Her voice was flat and low, but he recognized her concern. Even so, even soft and quiet, he felt as if she had shouted. He flinched despite himself. She pretended not to notice. He was grateful for her subtlety.

She stepped into the kitchen and moved toward her tea, placed ever so discreetly in front of her self-designated seat at the island. He waited for her to sample her tea before answering.

"It was Batman," he said.

She gave him a flat look and his turned sheepish. She already knew. She knew him better than he knew himself.

"And?" she coaxed.

He looked wary. He had long stopped hiding himself from her — from _them_. This would be no different. Resolved, he looked her in the eye and knew that she could see through his mask and his lies, and said, "He wants me to join the Justice League."

He waited for a reaction, but all she did was take another sip from her tea. He didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until she set her mug down and met his gaze. She was calm, unperturbed — _knowing_. He exhaled slowly, quietly and with care.

"Do you want to join, Robin?" she enquired.

There was no flux in her voice to indicate any distress or hurt, and he was not surprised. But he knew that she was bothered. He knew her better than she knew herself.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. He rubbed his forehead, a sign of his turmoil and stress. "It was… unexpected. The call this morning…" He broke off, not knowing what to say.

They stood in the silence. He was eager for, almost needing, a reply from her. She was practical and calm in ways he could never be, just as he was ruthless and sure in ways she could never be. In the mornings, they could resolve everything together before their friends even knew what had gone wrong. He needed her help to resolve this new obstruction in front of them.

"Raven," he broke the silence, "say something, _please_."

She set the mug aside and met him in the eye, very calm and sure: "Go."

His eyes went wide. He felt as if she had struck him. "_What_…?" he breathed, shocked and hurt.

She took his pain in stride. She knew his heart and his deepest secrets. She knew he wanted to go, but was obstructed by his loyalty to them. She would free him. She would free them all, and that was what he feared. That was what they _all_ feared.

"We cannot be unchanging, Robin," she explained, very reasonably and intelligent. He could not find the words to counter. "We knew — all of us — that you could not be with us forever. Just as we knew — all of us — that Starfire could not remain on Earth indefinitely."

He pressed his lips, knowing her words to be true, but his heart protested — fervently.

"We have come to a crossroad," she continued, her gaze turning rueful and soft, "as we have come to our limits. You know, just as well as I, that we have nothing more to learn from each other. Already, our training has become didactic and our enemies minor. We must now take different paths if we wish to advance and grow stronger — to be who we truly are."

He shook himself, objecting. "I-"

"_Robin_," she said, firmly and without debate, her eyes narrowing and his mouth sealing at once, "we have journeyed together for that very purpose: to learn, to grow — to find ourselves. Your other self, your _complete_ self, is with him and the Justice League. Our paths must divide from here on if we want our stories to continue."

He struggled with himself. He knew that her words were hurting them both, but they were needed words. They were no longer children, but were coming into maturity. They needed more challenges, more lessons, more everything — elsewhere. Not here. Not with each other. He knew that, one day, they would have to part.

"It's time, Robin," she said, sad and remorseful.

It hurt that it had to be now.

It had come sooner than either had anticipated.

"And the team?" Robin questioned, grasping at straws — not wanting to let go.

Not yet.

Raven lowered her hood, her amethyst eyes glowing in the morning sun. "Just because we will be apart, Robin, doesn't mean that we will be _apart_."

He looked to his tea, now cold and tasteless. They must resign to their fate. Sharing a look, they straightened when the rest of the tower stirred.

That morning, the Titans disbanded.

It was the coldest winter of their young lives.

#

**the point**


	2. 01: Independence Day

**Author's Note: I've received a very relevant enquiry from my last chapter that I'd like to address before we move on. In terms of ages and personalities, most of the characters will lean heavily on their Teen Titan's portrayal with bits of Young Justice personas when they apply. This means that:**

**1. Robin is 16 and a leader.**

**2. Kid Flash is confident and cheeky.**

**3. Speedy changes for the plot.**

**You'll probably wonder about the other characters and be confused by some of the replacements (i.e. Aqualad), but bear with me. I have plans and I'm hoping I'll be inspired enough to go through with them.**

**Cheers,**

**the point**

#

**01: Independence Day**

7 Months Later

GOTHAM CITY

July 4, 12:00 EDT

A year, he thought to himself, brushing his thumb down the length of his batarang. A year, and he would see them again.

He slipped behind a bush, the foliage still and silent, his focus honed and defined. He was aware that Batman was near — no words were needed or exchanged. He knelt low as they waited for their opponent to arrive. Commissioner Gordon had warned them that Mr. Freeze would appear; villains were never very secret with their "diabolical" plans.

Beast Boy would've made a joke.

He smirked, rueful and self-depreciating. Seven months had passed, and there hadn't been a day when he hadn't thought of them, at least once.

A chill swept over the park and a prickling sensation set his hair rising. Immediately, he prepared himself to move, leaning forward to the balls of his feet for a faster launch point. He paused, waiting for their enemy to show himself — snow, mist, a sizeable glacier breaking up the ground — he dashed across the park just as several innocent citizens were made victims to Mr. Freeze's freeze ray.

"Enjoying family time?" Mr. Freeze's distorted voice sent additional chills down their backs, made more sinister from the rocky platform he'd placed himself on so that he could overlook his playing ground. The sound of the freeze ray and a family of three were immediately cast in ice. "My family has other plans."

Frowning, the young sidekick rounded behind Mr. Freeze, his cape fluttering soundlessly after him. Just as he was dashing up the rocky hill to engage his opponent, the villain conveniently slid down on one of his icy ramps to ground level. Gritting his teeth, the hero threw his batarang, a wide-swept circle that rounded towards the villain's left.

The sharp _clang_ of metal upon metal confirmed the hit. Mr. Freeze stumbled at the collision, but soon found his footing.

Unimpressed, Mr. Freeze glared at the direction from whence the batarang came from. "Batman," he rasped, turning to meet his adversary. "I was wondering when-" He broke off when there was no one to meet his death stare.

_There_. There was his chance! The young hero sprinted forward, jumping off of the rocky hill and bringing all his weight down on Mr. Freeze's cylindrical helmet in a single kick. Mr. Freeze fell at the impact, but the hero simply jumped away and followed his move with additional batarangs — red, steely and sharp. They sent cracks running over Mr. Freeze's helmet.

"Oh, Boy Wonder," Mr. Freeze scowled, apathetic. "The Bat sent _you_ to drag me off to prison. Frankly, I'm underwhelmed." He prepared his freeze ray to down the bird.

Robin narrowed his eyes, spotting Batman coming up from behind Mr. Freeze.

/Initiate sequence 2. Prepare for apprehension,/ came Batman's voice through Robin's earpiece.

Robin frowned, restless. "Affirmative, but we should hurry."

"Kids," Mr. Freeze smirked, "always in such a rush. I prefer to preserve these moments — _forever_."

Robin's expression remained stony. "Not talking to you."

Mr. Freeze seemed to understand then as his eyes grew wide and he hurriedly turned to meet his fate. The dark bat-like silhouette shadowed the villain and sent him unconscious with a single, well-aimed, powerful punch.

Done.

Five months, Robin thought to himself, gathering his batarangs and slipping them back into his utility belt. Five more months and he would see them again.

#

STAR CITY

July 4, 09:01 PDT

Seven months, he thought, drawing an arrow from his quiver. Seven months and — _finally_ — the day had arrived. It had felt like forever.

He narrowed his eyes when Icicle Jr. landed on the bridge, rippling ice across the pavements. Traffic, coming from sides of the road, swerved to the sides and was dangerously close in spilling over the edge of the bridge. In a theatrical show of superiority, the villain threw back his arms and summoned an icicle large enough to knock one car over and send several spinning out of control. He laughed like a maniac.

"_Idiot_," Speedy thought, nocking his bow. He released the arrows onto his target, his mentor's arrows flying parallel with his. There was barely a moment's breath when he drew another arrow, his first few already exploding and knocking into Icicle Jr.

The villain looked up — Speedy and Green Arrow stood on a steel bar above the bridge.

"Finally," Icicle Jr. boasted in that pretentious teenage way of his, "I was wondering what a guy had to do to get a little attention around here!" His threw back his arms, expanded the frozen musculature of his limbs, and launched them forward like a catapult.

In a rushing, cold draft, icicles pelted toward the heroes. Immediately, the archers let loose their arrows. Speedy was not impressed.

"Junior's doing this for attention?" he sneered as his arrows neutralized several of their opponent's weapons.

It was not enough. Seeing the remaining icicles coming at them, Speedy gritted his teeth and followed Green Arrow off the bridge, jumping and sprinting down the rope toward ground level. It wasn't anything particularly hard or challenging. Icicle Jr. was a joke.

"I'm telling you now," Speedy complained to Green Arrow, "this little distraction better not _interfere_."

It'd been seven months, and he would be a fool to miss out.

More arrows were let loose, breaking Icicle Jr.'s self-made ice barrier. Without missing a beat, Speedy leapt over Icicle Jr.'s coming icicles, nocked another arrow and released, all in mid air. It socked Icicle Jr. right in the chin, throwing the villain back and knocked him unconscious. Bumblebee would've been proud; Garth definitely jealous. Speedy smirked at his thoughts.

Green Arrow chuckled as Icicle Jr. landed at his feet. "Kid's got a glass jaw," he quipped. He obviously found himself funny.

Edgy, Speedy came to Green Arrows side and rolled his eyes. "Hilarious," he stated flatly. It was not even remotely hilarious. "Can we go now? _Today's the day_."

#

CENTRAL CITY

July 4, 11:03 CDT

"_I wonder what Jinx wants to eat on Saturday,"_ he thought, his expression turning considerate, but his stride never breaking. _"French? She always likes French."_

A beam from his opponent's freeze gun nearly clipped him in the shoulder, but Kid Flash shrugged it off as if it were an insect.

"_Or should we try different? More fancy?"_ he continued to deliberate as he, literally, ran circles around Captain Cold. Kid Flash grinned. _"After all," _he mused ecstatically, _"I'm joining the _Justice League_ today!"_

One of Captain Cold's beams hit a car and froze it completely. Kid Flash hoped the owner had good insurance for the thing. He hissed sympathetically.

"Stealing ice?" Flash frowned at their opponent, running alongside his sidekick. "Isn't that a bit cliché, even for Captain Cold?"

Kid Flash grinned at his mentor (and uncle). Flash was funny, but not Beast Boy funny. No one was funny like Garfield.

Glancing at the clock tower, Kid Flash nearly balked. They were running later than he thought! Flash liked a late entrance; Jinx would kill Kid Flash if he was ever late — which made sense given how fast he was. Jinx trained him well, which he wasn't even bereft about. He found her tantrums cute.

"We're running late!" he exclaimed to his uncle. "Let's finish this!" He pulled his goggles over his eyes and zipped straight up to Captain Cold, almost breaking the sound barrier, but pulled back to give the ole guy a chance.

Captain Cold was one step ahead, firing a beam at the young speedster almost out of instinct. This one, unlike the earlier shot, actually chaffed Kid Flash's shoulder. But, Kid Flash being Kid Flash, he barely batted an eyelash as he stole Captain Cold's gun straight out of the villain's hand.

Just as Captain Cold was going to rant and rave like all evil lunatics, Flash punched him in the face. The Captain was knocked out — cold.

"_Now _that_,"_ Kid Flash concluded, watching the bitter man fall, _"is funny."_

He would have to save that one for later. Maybe he'd even make Raven laugh.

#

WASHINGTON, D.C.

July 4, 14:00 EDT

When he stared at the Hall of Justice from afar, he felt the weight of the world fall upon his shoulders. It wasn't the physical building that plagued him, but rather what it _represented_. All the good in the world, all that was right and just, all that was to protect their planet from all evil and darkness and wickedness.

He had trained all his life, ruthlessly, single-mindedly, to uphold his guardian's legacy and to be one of the others — powerful, strong, unfaltering. His mentor had honed him to be that way, to be focused and resolute, sometimes even ruthless and merciless. For most of his childhood, there was nothing save for being a hero.

And now, the moment had arrived: he was going to be one of the others.

One of the Justice League.

It was everything and nothing like he'd imagined. The sense of pride and hard work was expected. The feelings of hollowness and loneliness were not. It was a bittersweet moment, made incomplete by an incomplete self.

This was not his true self, he admitted. But soon, it would be.

Robin stiffened when his mentor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. His years outside of the Batcave had changed them, but as much as he appreciated Batman's warmer character and acceptance, Robin could not help but resent the Rule. He understood that it was to help him concentrate and immerse himself into the Justice League, but the Rule had done just the opposite.

He couldn't concentrate and couldn't immerse himself with the Justice League.

They were not his true self.

"Today's the day," Batman said, and gave his charge a small, encouraging smile.

"_A year," _Robin thought. _"Seven have passed. Five to go — _and then I can see them again_."_

Robin returned his mentor's smile, quiet and reserved. They both knew he could be happier, but for now… he would just be… whelmed.

"Welcome to the Hall of Justice," Green Arrow announced with pride.

"Headquarters of the Justice League," Aquaman added, much more modest.

Speedy turned just enough to catch Robin in the eye. They shared the same thought. With the sun hanging above the Hall of Justice, the man-made pond was like a silver mirror, the sky like a watercolour of the pinks and blues, the building like a beautiful statue: Starfire would have loved it.

"Oh, shoot, look at that!" came a cry from behind. "We're the last ones here!"

The caped crusaders, the archers and the Atlanteans all turned to meet the arriving speedsters. Flash wasn't at all concerned about being late; In fact, he thrived on it. Kid Flash, on the other hand, was disappointed with his record. Robin smiled; he knew Jinx hated it when Kid Flash was late for anything — even when she wasn't in attendance.

"KF," Robin welcomed, his body softening in the presence of his friends.

"Robin!" Kid Flash exclaimed. "Speedy!" He looked from one to the other, feeling at once chipper.

They fist bumped, so reminiscent of the days before.

"I won't tell Jinx," Speedy teased the speedster.

Kid Flash grinned, knowing his friends wouldn't rat him out. "Thanks, 'ppreciate it."

Aquaman's charge stepped forward with a smile of his own, open, calm and warm. The new Aqualad, Kaldur, was not, in fact, the _new _Aqualad, but rather the _only _Aqualad. The one they had known, Garth, had borrowed the moniker temporarily and had returned it seven months ago.

"Hey, Aqualad!" Kid Flash winked, resting a casual elbow on the Atlantean's shoulder, only he had to rise a little on his toes seeing as how Aqualad outgrew all the other boys. "Excited, or what?"

Aqualad's smile widened. "I am honoured, Kid Flash."

Aquaman placed a proud hand on his apprentice's shoulder, gathering the youth's attention. "Then let us be off."

Robin looked to his peers, sharing a look with Speedy, a smile with Kid Flash, and a nod with Aqualad. It had only been seven months since their introduction, but Aqualad was fitting right in. In five months, Robin wondered if the others would like this Aqualad as much as Garth. Speedy was still a little stiff around Kaldur, but he'd been stiff for a while now.

"Ready to see the Inner Sanctum?" Green Arrow asked his charge.

At the prospect of the Hall of Justice, Speedy tensed. "Born that way," the archer replied, eager and grave.

"_Strange,"_ Robin deduced, forcing his gaze from Speedy as he followed the League members into the Hall of Justice. Reporters and photographers closed in on either side of the red carpet (heroes liked their theatrics too), but Robin was used to it. He had been the one who dealt with the media back in his city.

_Their _city.

"I'm glad we're all here," Aqualad voiced, relieved to have his friends with him.

"Have all four sidekicks ever been in the same place at the same time?" Kid Flash asked excitedly, for Aqualad had not been with them back in the days.

"_Don't_ call us 'sidekicks,'" Speedy scolded. "Not after today."

"_Definitely strange_," Robin concluded, acknowledging Kid Flash's confused look. He would have to speak with his friend later.

All thoughts ceased when they entered the front doors of the Hall of Justice and were faced with the regal statues of the original seven members of the Justice League. The stone figures towered over them, their expressions absolute, firm and knowing. Peering up at the sculptures, Robin felt the generations of expectations, hopes and dreams fall upon his shoulders. If he had been a lesser boy, he would've stumbled, but he was no lesser boy. He was Batman's successor and the heir of the Wayne empire.

When they neared the metal doors at the other end of the foyer, the panels slid open to reveal Martian Manhunter and Red Tornado. Robin had, on one occasion or another, met all those in the Justice League — had spoken to them, had interacted with them. He had researched and investigated each and every member, but still, upon every meeting, he felt overwhelmed and honoured to fight by their side.

He felt small and inadequate.

Not like with the others.

"Robin," Martian Manhunter acknowledged, "Speedy, Aqualad, Kid Flash. Welcome."

Kid Flash beamed and Robin braced himself for what was to come. After all the hard work, sacrifices and losing himself over and over again, he was finally welcomed into the Justice League.

As he stepped through the metal doors, he wondered if this was what he wanted all along.

#

"That's it?!" Speedy demanded, choking bitterness. The League turned from the Zeta-Beam entrance, startled by the archer's outburst. "You promised us a real look inside, not a glorified_ backstage pass_."

Aquaman frowned, having not expected this from him. "It's a first step. You've been granted access few others get."

"Oh, _really_?" Speedy countered, gesturing to the glass ceiling where all the reporters and tourists were looking in on them. One even had a camcorder recording their every move.

Cyborg would've hated the place, Speedy scrutinized. The security was lacking and weak.

They were now through the metal doors and into the Inner Sanctum of the Hall of Justice. One wall consisted of the League's supercomputer while the others were lined with books. No sooner had they arrived in the room did the mentors gather around to talk amongst themselves. They had debriefed on the simultaneous ice villain attacks (Aquaman and Aqualad had faced Killer Frost) and were prepared to leave their young charges to deal with the issue — _without their sidekicks_.

But Speedy would have none of it. He would not be _brushed aside_. "Who cares which side of the glass we're on?" he spat.

"Roy," Green Arrow tried to console, stepping forward in a gesture of goodwill, his hands and wrist facing outwards. Speedy understood his body language very well, and he wasn't going to be manipulated. "You just need to be patient."

Speedy bristled. He was offended that _Oliver_ would even try to appease him. After all they'd been through — countless brushes shy of death — a few simple words could not fix this — could not even begin to make up for all they'd instilled in him. Their expectations. Their harsh analysis. Their _dreams_.

Speedy had dreams once.

Dashed away by a single call one cold and unforgiving morning.

"What I need," he insisted, "is _respect_."

It had been the coldest winter of his young life.

Angry, he turned to the others — his equals and fellow teammates — and urged, "They're treating us like kids — worse, like _sidekicks_. _We deserve better than this_."

Robin narrowed his eyes, trying to read him. Even with masks hiding half their faces, Speedy knew _exactly_ what Robin was thinking. Their training had been too intense. The pressure too much. Their freedom clipped — confined by their mentors, by the media and by the League. That was why he was acting out. That was why he was so angry. That was why Speedy had changed.

Roy Harper was not one to hide from his feelings, not like a bird. Yes. He was angry that _this_ was all they got. _They gave up everything_.

Speedy met Robin's examination with his own, just as deep and invasive. He tried to find the friend he had known all his life — the bold and the brave — the leader among all leaders. The friend who, with a single phrase, could command an army of the best, the youngest and the most powerful of heroes.

There was no Robin there.

Speedy exhaled in disbelief.

There was only _Batman's sidekick_.

Robin was not going to respond to Speedy's call to arms, and Speedy was hurt and insulted. Even Kid Flash, always so confident and optimistic, would not take the chance with him.

"You're kidding, right?" Speedy questioned his friends. "You're playing their game?! Why?! Because you think they play fair? Today was supposed to be _the_ day. Step one to becoming full-fledged members of the League!"

It was what they gave up _everything_ for.

Kid Flash looked to Robin, and Speedy could see how confused and cautious the speedster was. Kid Flash didn't know him anymore. They didn't know him anymore. _He didn't know them anymore_. Perhaps he had changed, but only fools didn't. Even Robin changed — did Kid Flash not see?

"Well, sure," Kid Flash was hesitant in his reply, "but wouldn't the first step be a tour of HQ?"

Speedy gritted his teeth. They had changed so much that _none_ had even deigned it necessary to question their elders! "Except the Hall of Justice _isn't_ the League's real HQ," he hissed. "I don't even think they've told you! It's just a false front for tourists and a pit stop for catching Zeta-Beam teleporting tubes to the real thing — an orbiting satellite called the Watchtower!"

From his peripheral vision, he saw Batman frown at Green Arrow. Speedy was not sorry for revealing his mentor's secret.

"I know, I know, but I thought maybe we could make an exception?" Green Arrow attempted to bargain with Batman.

Batman was unmoving. In fact, he seemed even more disapproving.

"Or not," Green Arrow waned.

Aquaman decided to step up, being the most patient and parental of the League. "You are not helping your cause here, son," the Atlantean king addressed Speedy firmly. "Stand down or-"

"Or _what_?" Speedy snapped. He did not need them to patronize him, as if he were a _child_. He'd faced darker and more sinister monsters than they gave him credit for. "You'll send me to my _room_? And I'm _not_ your son. I'm not even _his_."

He looked Green Arrow in the eye, the elder archer surprised at the declaration.

"I thought I was his partner, but-" Speedy grabbed his hat, disappointed, angry and feeling oh so alone, "not anymore," and threw it to the ground in finality.

The room rippled in shock and disbelief, but Speedy was not going to take it back. If they decided to break their own rules, then he didn't want to play by them. They had _promised_ membership.

Speedy turned from Green Arrow and toward the metal doors. _He was not going to take it back_. Gritting his teeth, he made for the exit, hot and cold at the same time. Finally — _finally _— Robin decided to move.

Instilled in his body, Speedy paused in his path when Robin finally stood from his seat, the bird's gaze straight and unwavering. Robin did not have his anger to bolster his confidence just then, but there was still enough of the leader in him that stopped Speedy cold. They both knew that once Speedy was out those doors, it would be damn hard to get him back in.

"Stop, Speedy," Robin commanded, firm and compassionate: the leader Batman could never be. "We're so close. After all our training, there's no reason to walk away. We just have to wait a little longer."

Speedy scowled. He had hoped for more, but all he saw was the shadow of his friend, an empty husk — _Batman's puppet_. Out of all of them — him, Kid Flash and Robin — Speedy had expected Robin to lead the charge of protest. After all, it had been Robin who lost the most.

Disgusted, Speedy scowled. "Really, _Robin_?" he accused. "Even after Batman took away the _Titans_?"

There. He said it. He said it and he wasn't about to let Kid Flash's incredulous stare make him feel guilty about it. For that was _exactly_ what they'd done; they gave up one team for another, except now the other team didn't want them.

And their old team was no more.

Robin stilled, as did the Leaguers. For a second, Robin stopped breathing. Immediately, Kid Flash was at the bird's side, steadying the caped crusader with his mere presence. The speedster looked to the archer sympathetically.

"That's not fair, Speedy," Kid Flash said quietly, gravely. "It's only for a year…"

Speedy flinched. He did not want to see them. He did not want to be here. He did not even understand why _Kaldur _was here when the conversation no longer concerned him. Speedy shoved passed Robin, their shoulders clipping, and muttered, "Guess they're right about you three. You're _not_ ready."

With that, he did the one thing the Titans never did: he left his friends behind.

Speedy had dreams once.

#

"_It's not supposed to be this way,"_ he thought. He felt distorted and distanced from the room. _"We're not supposed to be _apart_."_

Robin straightened when the alarm sounded in the Inner Sanctum. He was familiar with emergencies. His body thrived — ran on auto-pilot — when there was a mission to be had. He raised his eyes to the monitor on the wall. When there was a mission, nothing else mattered. Not even Speedy leaving them behind.

"Superman to Justice League." Superman was on screen, made even larger by the size of the Hall of Justice. "There's been an explosion at Project Cadmus. It's on fire."

Batman frowned. "I had my suspicions about Cadmus. This may present the perfect opportunity to-"

The alarm sounded again, this time an alert from Zatara. Robin breathed and listened, absent and present, in and out. His blood hummed as Zatara requested full League response to a threat involving Woten blotting out the sun. A thrill ran up his spine; Robin felt nothing but the mission. He had faced Hell before — he could easily face an embittered sorceress and retrieve the Amulet of Aten for the League.

But that was not to be.

"All Leaguers rendezvous to Zatara's coordinates, Batman out." The caped crusader withdrew from the communicator and turned to address the remaining sidekicks; the other three Leaguers already moving for the Zeta-Beam tube. "Stay put," Batman instructed the young heroes.

Batman even had to take _the mission_ from him.

Kid Flash raised his brows, incredulous. He was ready to protest; this would not be his first (or last) magical super villain.

"Affirmative," Robin cut the speedster off, confirming Batman's instructions.

"_Wha_…?" Kid Flash trailed, floored.

Robin met Batman's unmoving stare with one of his own. One of his best friends just left him behind. His guardian and (left unsaid) father did not believe he was strong enough to stand by his side. He hadn't seen his best friends, his _bestest_ friends, in seven months.

Five more to go.

And Batman. Batman just stood there, unflinching, as if nothing else mattered but his orders. Nothing else mattered save _the mission_. He could look at Robin in eye, amongst the bird's turmoil, and remain just as cold and aloof as that night long, long ago. It was like there was nothing between them anymore.

The last time Robin had felt this detached from his guardian, he had left and founded his own team.

"Why can't we go?" Kid Flash questioned, confused and troubled.

"This is a League mission," Aquaman explained.

"You're not trained," Flash said.

Visibly hurt, Kid Flash frowned at his mentor – his _uncle_. "Since _when_?" Hadn't Flash trained Kid Flash himself?

Flash had the grace to look guilty, but only temporarily. "I meant you're not trained to work as a part of _this_ team." He gestured to Batman.

_Always_ Batman.

"There will be other missions," Aquaman consoled, "when you're ready."

They ended it there, the younger watching the elder leave.

Green Arrow turned to Martian Manhunter and whispered, "Glad you didn't bring you-know-who?"

"Indeed," the Martian intoned.

Green Arrow should've been more affected by Speedy's leaving than the rest of the sidekicks. The League recovered fast.

The doors to the Zeta-Beam closed with a hollow clang.

Robin didn't see anything. He didn't want to.

"I don't understand," Kid Flash whispered once his mentor left. He dropped into one of the chairs, elbows to his knees and chin resting on his palms: the perfect picture of dejection. "I thought we were ready. After all those years as-" He broke off, looking to Robin warily.

Robin didn't respond. He hadn't moved from the position Batman had left him in.

"My mentor. My king. I thought he trusted me," Aqualad faltered. Even in his calming tones, he sounded shattered.

"They _never_ trusted us," Kid Flash emphasized, feeling angry for the first time of his life. He stood on his feet. "They've got a secret HQ — _in space_!"

Aqualad contemplated this and, with aghast, was brave enough to pose, "What else are they not telling us?"

Robin flinched. How long had Batman been omitting the truth from him? If he hadn't done his own investigation on the Justice League, he would've never known about the Watchtower — _Batman would've never told him_.

Kid Flash waned. "Maybe we should've left with Speedy?"

Robin returned to his statuesque position. He didn't want to be involved anymore.

"What is… 'Project Cadmus?'" Aqualad asked, cautious, but no less curious.

_A mission_.

Robin moved to the supercomputer, his movements so abrupt and purposeful that he surprised his peers. Mechanically, he started to hack into the system. He didn't even need to press two buttons to know how to crack the code.

"What are you doing?" Kid Flash queried, looking over the bird's shoulder with open curiosity.

The computer beeped in protest: "Access denied."

"Finding information," Robin replied, tapping the keys, the monitor immediately turning into ones and zeroes.

Kid Flash gaped, impressed. "Wow! How are you doing that?" Jinx would thrive in this chaos.

Robin smiled, tight and bitter. "Same system as the Batcave." How ironic.

"Access granted," the computer chimed on cue.

The screen flashed and they stood back to get a better look at Project Cadmus.

"Project Cadmus, genetics lab, here in DC," Robin briefed the others. "There's nothing else," he frowned, "but Batman's suspicious. We should investigate."

Aqualad was surprised, but Kid Flash accepted Robin's words with an easy grace. They were made to go out on missions, and Kid Flash and Robin had been working together since childhood. They knew how each other ticked — and Kid Flash knew that Robin needed this more than ever.

"Solve their case before they do," Aqualad contemplated, hesitating. But then, "It _would_ be poetic justice."

"And they're all about the 'justice,'" Kid Flash jested with a wink.

A mission, Robin decided, plugging the holographic computer in his glove to the League's supercomputer. He always succeeded in missions where he failed elsewhere. He downloaded the coordinates and the Project Cadmus files before breaking away.

"Let's go," Robin commanded.

"Wait," Aqualad sighed. "They said to stay put."

Kid Flash grinned, cheeky and playful. "For the blotting-out-the-sun mission, but they didn't say anything about putting out small fires! It's right up our alley!"

Aqualad was stumped. He looked from one to the other, the speedster to the bird, and was speechless. He could not deny the thrill he felt at the very prospect of proving himself to his king. His gaze rested on Kid Flash, who grinned. The speedster had no care in the world, but was wise beyond his years.

"Just like that?" he asked them. "We're a team on a mission?"

Robin nodded, robotic and focused.

Kid Flash flashed a worried look to his caped friend, but addressed Aqualad with a solemn smile. "We've _always_ been a team, Aqualad."

Wise beyond his years.

Slowly, Aqualad smiled.

It was all the confirmation the other two needed.

Robin turned and strode out of the Inner Sanctum and, ultimately, the Hall of Justice.

There was nothing _but_ the mission.

#

The Cadmus Laboratories was like any other two-storied office building in the vicinity: simple lines and straight-forward floor plan. If not for the bright blue sign in front of the building, many would've cast it off as an apartment building. That night, there was no mistaking the building as insignificant as several fire trucks and an ambulance rained sound and fury at its entrance. At the upper right corner, facing the street, a burst of fire could be seen threatening the lives of two scientists.

Kid Flash didn't even wait for instructions before dashing forward, sprinting past the fire trucks and propelling his body up to the side of the building. He made it just in time, snatching the two falling scientist from midair and placing them back in the building — unscathed. Soon, he was joined by Robin.

"I wasn't late that time, see?" Kid Flash joked.

Robin walked past him, not even giving him a glance. He was all stone and cold and nothing. Kid Flash was worried about him. Speedy's leaving had affected them all.

Giving a thumbs-up to the scientists as a gesture of an A-OK, Kid Flash stayed with them long enough for Aqualad to show up. He watched the Atlantean escort the citizens to the ground via water column and whistled. Kid Flash was impressed.

"We should have come up with a plan," Aqualad criticized with a frown.

Kid Flash beamed, forcing a wince from forming on his face. There _had_ been a plan: Aqualad just hadn't caught on. As often as they saw each other in the past seven months, the four apprentices never had a chance to work together as a whole. It was often in pairs or trios (with their mentors present as well), and they hardly trained with each other. Aqualad didn't know how Kid Flash, Robin and Speedy worked.

Aqualad had never had pizza with them, played Mega Monkey 4.2, or be immersed in an all-out Meat vs. Tofu war. Kid Flash chuckled to himself. The Tower had never looked the same ever since.

The Atlantean was too polite to raise a brow at Kid Flash's sudden laugh, but his expression conveyed his confusion just the same. Kid Flash tried to smile it off, and Aqualad seemed to accept it when he nodded and began to survey the halls.

Sighing, Kid Flash turned to Robin, who had completely engrossed himself in the lab's computer. The speedster didn't want to interrupt the bird, but they needed to put the fire out. He was about to pose this predicament when he heard something _click_.

Immediately, he zipped out into the hallway, stopping just as Aqualad's shoulder. The Atlantean was staring at the closed elevator in shock.

"There was something in the…" Aqualad trailed uncertainly.

Kid Flash pressed his lips. "Elevators should be locked down."

Robin slipped into the hallway and narrowed his eyes on the metal doors. Instinctively, Kid Flash stepped back to give Robin right of way, which the caped crusader took. He watched Robin scan the elevator with his holographic computer, a miniature supercomputer at his wrist that displayed a holographic screen of the operating system.

When Robin frowned, Kid Flash knew that the simple putting-the-fire-out mission just got a whole lot complicated.

"_Jinx is gonna kill me,"_ he thought. He was supposed to call her tonight, but missions did not usually keep to a fixed schedule.

"This is a high-speed express elevator," Robin explained. He was so focused and set-minded, so lifeless, that Aqualad took the chance to look to Kid Flash for answers. Kid Flash could give him nothing. "It doesn't belong in a two-storey building."

Aqualad nodded gravely. "Neither did what I saw."

Confirmed that the building was suspicious, Aqualad pried the elevator doors apart and revealed a shaft that tunnelled much deeper than two stories. Before either Kid Flash or Aqualad could react, Robin hooked his grappling gun and slid down the shaft. No words. No looks. Nothing.

Just action.

"Is Robin all right?" Aqualad asked cautiously.

Kid Flash's eyes dulled, but then cleared when he faced the water-user. "I… don't know," he answered honestly. "I've only heard stories…"

Stories of a ruthless man, hell-bent on enslaving Robin, destroying his friends, and taking over his city.

Stories of a man who wore a red-and-black mask.

Without another word, the two grabbed hold of Robin's rope and swung down after the little bird.

#

He had seen many terrible things in his life, and this would not be the last. Great alien beings, modified, engineered, _cloned_ to be a super army, enslaved to one treacherous scientist. Beings the size of a glorg. Beings with enough power to keep a multi-level laboratory running. _Beings with mind control_.

_Genomorphs_.

After hacking the lab's computer systems, Robin was determined to solve the mystery of Cadmus. Their most protected file had been Project Kr — sub-level 52. After this, he would've proven himself. He would've unravelled the mystery _Batman_ couldn't.

The elevator doors slammed shut before the small scavenger-like creatures could get to them. Aqualad was breathing hard and shallow. Kid Flash was no longer as optimistic or carefree as he usually was. Robin remained stony, mentally going over the list of equipment he'd brought with him.

Kid Flash watched the numbers increase on the elevator screen, increasing as they continued downwards. Aqualad protested, but was met with a cold, logical and emotionless explanation from Robin about Project Kr. Kid Flash did not argue; Robin's silence silenced him.

"This is out of control," Aqualad said, a little nervous despite his superior grasp over his emotions. "Perhaps…" He turned to the others. "Perhaps we should contact the League."

Aqualad was saved from Robin's backlash when the elevator sounded to their stop. One look, Robin to Aqualad, and Robin exited the box. He did not know what Kid Flash said to Aqualad, but Robin was no longer listening — caring. He did, however, feel a trickle of relief when he was soon joined by Kid Flash and Aqualad. They stood in a tunnel that looked like the innards of an intestine, all bulbous and swollen.

"Wow," Kid Flash joked. "Wonder what this guy ate."

Robin didn't stay to find out as he dashed down one of the tunnels. The others followed, but they were soon met with one of the alien beings. When the creature's horns glowed and several rocks were tossed at them, shattering in rippling explosions, they understood that the creature had telekinetic powers.

Immediately, they scattered and ran down one of the tunnels. One look behind them and Robin spotted the Guardian chasing after them alongside the scavengers. Giving Kid Flash a signal, Robin sent the speedster forward to scout ahead. In a matter of seconds, Robin and Aqualad were faced with Kid Flash struggling to keep a pair of heavy-security, metal doors opened.

The doors read: _Project Kr_.

They slipped in.

#

Kid Flash had seen many terrible things in his life (including a pissed-off Jinx), but nothing like _this_. A boy, his own age, born from the innards of a tube. A boy who had never seen the sky or the sun. A boy who, against his will and every fibre of his being, was a puppet made in the resemblance of one of the two most influential members of the Justice League.

_Superman's clone_.

Pain wracked his body when he collided into the wall — hard. Through bleary eyes, Kid Flash watched Aqualad beat back Superboy with a water-crafted hammer. It did not last long as Superboy backhanded the Atlantean into the machine that had once held him prisoner. All the good that they had tried to do for the clone, and the clone was determined to beat them.

Kid Flash found his footing and quickly pulled Aqualad away from the fight. It was up to Robin with his gadgets, his strength and his intelligence. But even faced by the atrocity of the clone, of the injustice of Cadmus' activities, Kid Flash knew Robin would lose.

It was not because Robin was smaller than Superboy or lacked the strength — Kid Flash had seen him take down many villains thrice his size — but rather, Robin had lost his grasp on what it was meant to fight for something right, good and loved.

Kid Flash closed his eyes before the final blow got to him.

"_Jinx,"_ was his last thought.

#

A year…

A year was a long time.

Robin struggled to stay conscious, but he was only human.

Seven months had passed.

He was only a boy.

Five months was so… far… away…

He fell.

#

"_Hey, this isn't your town. Aren't you supposed to be with-?"_

#

**the point**


	3. 02: Fireworks

**Author's Note: ****Flashbacks from Teen Titan's Episode: Go.**

#

**02: Fireworks**

#

"_Just moved here, and from now on, I work alone._

#

AZARATH

July 4, 12:00 PM

Her heart stuttered like a fragile wing and she was gently roused from her meditation. Slowly, quietly, her consciousness returned and her body - her _temple_ - could be felt again. The stones beneath her legs had, by now, warmed to from her body heat, and the wind, after hours, had finally puttered to a soft breeze. Carefully, she let her mind sink back into her body and was once again in one of the towers of Azarath, the one, large window bringing in the scent of honeysuckle and the sound of children's laughter.

It took her a moment to understand what had woke her — _disturbed_ her — from the depths of her inner self.

_"Robin,"_ she thought with a contemplative frown.

He was projecting again. After so many months, after so many worlds apart, and after so many walls constructed around their mindscapes, Raven could _still_ feel him. It did not happen often or for long, but rather in his most dire and depressing moments... a part of him would slip into her, trying to find one of them... calling to — _for_ — them.

Raven swallowed restlessly and pinched the bridge of her nose to fight off the coming head(heart) ache. The Dark Knight had set parameters: a year. A year to allow Robin to live, breathe, _be_ without them — to find himself outside of them. A year, and they would see each other again - live, breathe and _be_ each other again.

_"Bruce doesn't understand,"_ Raven thought grimly, shaking herself out of her thoughts. They could be separated — physically, but it would hurt them — mentally.

Exhaling, she stood from her seat on the tower floor — thick, solid, grey stones — and turned to the door — aged, wood and brass. The wind brushed at the stray hairs of her braid and, composed — calm, Raven opened the door and descended the stairs. Her long, deep, purple robe trailed after her like a whispered caress.

She may have to contact Cyborg again. Victor was the only one who was capable enough to poke around Wayne Industries, in particular Bruce's brainchild: The Batcave. Raven tsked. It may not be a good idea; Cyborg had nearly short-circuited last time.

_"Damn Bats,"_ she thought, pausing at the last step.

She could hear the children playing just outside the temple. She debated whether or not to [etc]. She knew that they were waiting for her. _It still took her breath away to know that they liked her_. (She was getting better and better with children every day.)

She remembered Robin's distress and sighed. She could not leave Robin to his own devices: he was always so hard on himself. Decided then, Raven stepped off the final step and retreated further into the temple — away from the children and the light and the laughter.

She passed a pair of monks, a couple of scholars and even a professor — they always paused in their journeys to acknowledge each other with either a bow or make short pleasantries. They did not speak long; they had learned to read her rather well in the past few months. In fact, they left her alone altogether when, slipping by a window and the sunlight hitting her violet hair just so, a familiar tune broke through the silence of the temple.

She gave an apologetic look to the monk she had been speaking to, but he forgave her readily enough. They parted ways and Raven slipped a hand into the pockets or her robes, withdrawing the Titan's communicator as she opened the gates to a small courtyard garden.

She knew that it wasn't Robin. He was oddly silent after the abrupt mental distress.

Fortunately, she was alone.

She opened the communicator, suspecting something amiss, and was pleasantly relieved to meet with a bright smile on the other end. "Star," Raven welcomed, calm and patient. There were no outward signs of concern or injury; Starfire was fine.

"Friend Raven!" Starfire grinned, her emerald eyes electric and full of love and kindness. "We have not spoken in a long time!"

Raven felt her features soften and even a smile touch her lips. "Yes. I've been busy studying. How is Tamaran?"

"Marvellous!" Starfire burst. "Take a look!"

Before Raven could make a decision, Starfire cheerfully moved her communicator from her face and to one of the deserts that dotted Tamaran's luscious geography. In the distance, Raven saw a sand-snake-like creature (at least five storeys tall) breaking up from the sand and then digging back down into the grainy ground. Raven suppressed a shudder. She still hadn't recovered from her first visit to the exotic planet.

"Lovely," Raven said, somehow able to keep the sarcasm from tainting her tone.

"Isn't it?" Starfire's grin returned, the wild winds of the desert tossing her glorious red hair like spun fire and sunlight. Starfire was absolutely breath taking, even more beautiful as they aged. Raven was proud to call her friend. "I have come up with an excellent plan, Raven!"

Raven nearly winced. Starfire always used excessive exclamation points when excited. "What is this plan, Star?"

"I wish to partake in a party of teas!"

It didn't even take Raven a second to comprehend and translate: "A tea party."

"Yes!"

Raven contemplated this. Very cautiously, she replied, "All right."

Sunfire's smile nearly blinded the sorceress. "Glorious! I shall contact friends Bumblebee, Jinx and Argent! We will arrive on Azarath-"

"What?" Raven punctured Sunfire's glee.

To Starfire's credit, she only faltered a brief second before she continued to steamroll ahead - as if Raven's left eye wasn't twitching. "We shall arrive on the Day of the Sun!" Starfire's smile remained bright even under Raven warning glare.

"Star-"

"I have already contacted Arella and she is looking forward to our Party of Teas!"

"Star."

"All right, Raven! I am ever-so-glad that we've come to an amicable conclusion-"

"No, Star."

"-but I must be go now! Bye!"

With that, Starfire disconnected her end of their communication, leaving Raven to bear the unpalatable taste of having to host a... _tea party_. With a resigned sigh, Raven closed her communicator and massaged her temples. She understood that Starfire had wanted to visit Azarath and meet her mother for a long while now. After all, Raven had already met Starfire's k'norfka (guardian), Galfore.

Accepting this as Starfire's round-about method to visiting Raven and, ultimately, reaffirming their unending friendship, Raven accepted this. Her mother seemed to be a part of this disastrous social gathering as well. Her mother was happy again.

Starfire wanted to be happy.

They all did.

This reminded Raven of Robin.

They all wanted to be happy.

Raven opened her communicator for the second time that day, and dialled.

#

"_All the fault is yours! I commanded you leave me alone, but you insisted upon the 'being nice!'" _

#

TAMARAN

July 4, 15:24 PM

Starfire closed her communicator with a relieved sigh. Raven hadn't been very excited or happy about the surprise Party of Teas, but she had not protested overly much. Unlike Raven, Starfire was not one to hide her emotions - she wore her heart on her sleeve (she actually got the proverb right!) — and she had purposely made herself more eager and more excited than usual (if that were possible).

Raven hadn't even stood a chance. Starfire giggled at this thought. Raven hated to disappoint her — _them_.

"Princess," Balgor spoke, trekking up the sand dune to his mistress' side. He held a pair of binoculars in his hand. "The refthar."

As if the creature had heard the general, the sand-snake sprang up from the grains and roared in the distance, bearing fangs and spittle. Hearing the cry, Starfire frowned, unhappy and uncomfortable. It was the creature that had brought the Tamaranean platoon to the desert's edge. For weeks, the refthar had been harassing the gypsies in the area, and even travelers who kept their distance. The creature had gone rogue.

"Shall we?" Balgor enquired.

It took all of Starfire's strength not to look at the general imploringly. She did not want to end the creature — she was not one made to kill, but she understood that a decision had to be made. If she were Raven — _Robin_ — there would not be any hesitance. But if Starfire had learned anything since her return to Tamaran, it was that she was _not_ like her friends: calculated, means to an end — unshakeable.

Instead, she was sympathetic, caring — compromising.

Nodding an acquiesce, Starfire's eyes and fists glowed green before she flew upwards, several troops following after her. It would not take a whole platoon to down the creature. She was determined to subdue it for now. No need to kill it when it could be made to be docile.

An hour later, covered in spittle and sweat, Starfire dropped from the sky and nodded to her trusted general. Under his understanding, but stern gaze, she kept her posture straight and hard. Under the judging eyes of the Tamaran soldiers, she kept her face expressionless and forward. She was not her sister, but she was a force to be reckoned with.

They had learned that in the months since her return to Tamaran; she had taught herself to be that since her return to Tamaran.

Finally, once Starfire had shrouded herself in her tent — alone, she let herself sink into the rough blankets and _feel_ again. Tamareans were, above all else, _soldiers_, but Starfire had learned what it was like to _not_ be a soldier. She was beginning to teach the others too: to feel, to sympathize, to _love_. But they were hard and stubborn, and they were beginning to morph Starfire's sense of self — her _real_ self.

This was why she needed to see the others — _to see Raven_. Raven who, against all odds, felt more deeply, more intensely, more _truly_ than all others she had ever met or loved. Raven, who had always been lonely, shutting others out — shutting _them_ out for the longest of time — _loved them without question or hesitance or judgement_. After so long, after being so far, when Raven finally let herself _feel_, she craved it more than the others and never took it for granted.

It was how Starfire knew, without question or doubt, that Raven wanted to see her just as much as she wanted to see her. _"Perhaps more so,"_ Starfire surmised ruefully.

Starfire understood this in Raven — they were of the same coin (or something like that). Raven was breathtaking in her darkness and mystery, in her full embrace of life even if she shied away from it. And she grew more beautiful with time. Starfire was proud to call her friend.

She was proud to call them _all_ friends. They were five parts of a whole. They were a part of each other. And she missed them terribly. Cyborg's boisterous laugh and his passionate love for all things technology. Beast Boy's infectious energy and his vehement search for vegetarian options. Robin... _Robin_.

Her first love. Always would be. So serious. So stubborn. So unbendable... Starfire smiled. So forgiving. So merciful. So righteous and kind and protective...

So lost without them.

Raven didn't say, but she knew — _they_ knew. Robin was having trouble coping without them. Despite his hard exterior and his master-like grasp on his emotions, Robin was the most sensitive of them. Raven, above all others, knew this. Out of respect, out of their friendship, they've all said nothing.

They were all waiting.

_"Five months," _Starfire thought with relish.

Soon.

#

"_My__ fault?! You __blast__ me, you __kiss__ me, but you never stop to mention that they have a gigantic particle weapon!"_

#

WASHINGTON, D.C.

July 5, 00:01 EDT

He awoke with a start, a psychic pull that lurched his consciousness into place — forcing, _hammering_ him back to reality. For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming, still watching the others laugh and play on the beach surrounding their Tower, but then his eyes adjusted to the glow of the computers and his stomach turned. _They'd been captured_.

His first thought: _Cyborg_.

Cyborg and he could get them out of any technological contraption and mechanical abomination ever invented. After that, they would put a stop to this maniacal plan, capture the malicious villains and be back at the Tower before midnight.

_But then he saw Kaldar_ — Aqualad.

There were no Titans.

Robin swallowed, painful and dry. He could hear Kid Flash in the other holding pod trying to coax Superman's clone into freeing them, but Robin brushed it aside. With or _without_ Cyborg — _them_ — he would still need to escape, destroy this maniacal plan and capture the malicious villains.

He just didn't have a Tower to return to.

Producing a pick from his glove, Robin began working on the cuffs. Aqualad soon joined the conversation, but the clone did not respond. It was eerie, quiet — _glowering_. It was almost robotic, but Robin recognized the consciousness in its eyes. It did not trust _anything_ or _anyone_.

"I thought he would help us…?" Kid Flash let his question hang. "I mean… we kind of freed him, right?"

Aqualad contemplated this, his expression turning sympathetic as he voiced, "I believe that our friend is not in full control of his actions."

Kid Flash frowned, troubled and concerned.

"Wh-What…" the clone attempted speech.

The room grew still, even Robin.

A struggle, and then words were formed from the clone's mouth. "What if I wasn't?"

"He can talk?!" Kid Flash exclaimed, eyes wide, awed and curious at the same time.

"_Yes_," the clone hissed, offended and fisting his hands. "_He_ can."

It was his first show of expression: rage, and it left them speechless, even Kid Flash who was always so suave and cool.

"The Genomorphs taught you… telepathically," Aqualad surmised, surprised and hopeful.

"They taught me much," the clone admitted, his countenance still hard and angry. "I can read — write. I know the names of things-"

"But have you seen them?" Kid Flash interrupted — he who was so full of life and energy.

The clone hesitated.

"Have they actually ever let you see the sky… or the sun?" Kid Flash pried gently, an understanding smile on his lips.

"Images have been implanted in my mind," the clone explained, and then he looked away. "But… no. I have not seen them."

"Do you know what you are?" Aqualad asked carefully.

The clone straightened at once, robotic and steely, and answered as if from script: "I am the Super Boy, a Genomorph, a clone made from the DNA of the Super Man, created to replace him should he perish… to _destroy_ him should he turn from the Light."

#

"_We are doomed! I can't believe I let you talk me into this!"_

#

QURAC

July 5, 06:01 UTC

He climbed the orange tree with much enthusiasm, his monkey claws clutching, digging and pulling himself up to the canopy. Finally, with a leap, he broke through the leaves and winced at the brightness of the rising sun. Finding a good, strong branch, Beast Boy changed himself back to his original form, a human with green skin, and he sat there, absorbing the stillness, the quiet and the peace with a smile.

He'd never thought he'd be one to enjoy sunrises — the hours before the rest of the world woke. It was more Raven's thing than his, but after these months of nothingness, Beast Boy had learned to enjoy any moments that came his way.

They never lasted.

From the house, he heard his mom moving in the kitchen. As a wildlife preservationist, Marie Logan worked odd hours, but there hadn't been a day when she hadn't woke up early to make breakfast. Ever since Beast Boy had discovered his powers, he had searched far and wide for answers and a purpose in life. He thought the answer would be with the Doom Patrol. Later, _perfectly_, he found it was with _them_.

But there hadn't been a single day he hadn't thought of her: _his mom_. And after that winter — _the longest winter of their lives _— Beast Boy had returned where he started and he regret having left his mom in the first place. He had nearly broken her.

After that winter, Beast Boy re-examined his place and purpose in life.

With them.

He looked to the house.

And with her.

After that winter, Marie cherished every moment she had with her son.

They did not know how long those moments would last.

They never lasted.

"_Five more months,"_ Beast Boy mused.

Shaking himself out of his morose thoughts, Beast Boy roused his enthusiasm and took out his communicator.

They may be separated, but never far.

He beamed into the sun. It was going to be another beautiful day.

#

"_S__ay __what__?! I was ready to walk before you-"_

#

GERMANY

July 4, 06:15 UTC

"_Dude_, I'm telling you," Beast Boy drilled emphatically. "You should definitely visit Qurac after Germany! You can meet my mom!"

Cyborg — _Victor_ — smiled at Beast Boy's — _Garfield's_ — insistence. Even with Victor keeping an eye on the road, he knew that Garfield was flailing his arms hysterically on the other side of the communicator. Garfield's whine could be heard throughout his baby's stunning surround-sound speakers. The car hummed with Garfield's energy and (he would never admit to it) Victor was glad to hear from the little bugger.

_"Well, not so 'little' anymore," _Victor thought, his eyes briefly flickering to the communicator's screen before returning to the road.

Garfield had hit a growth spurt over the last few months, even surpassing Starfire. It made Starfire giggle and flit around every time they got together. Victor wondered how Robin was doing.

He contemplated this as Germany's picturesque countryside passed him in a blur. There was so much Germany had to offer in terms of green technology and energy development. He couldn't wait to attend the conference and get to know some of the best minds the world had to offer. Thank goodness he had perfected his human hologram or he wouldn't have been able to travel as much as he had.

"Hey! Are you still there?" Garfield wheedled.

Victor chuckled. "Still here, grass stain."

Garfield bristled. If he'd been a bird, his feather would have, literally, ruffled. "Not funny, dude."

Victor laughed. He was just about to comment when his communicator sounded again.

"Raven," his loyal car intoned in a pleasant, but robotic, female tone.

Both he and Garfield paused in their banter. Raven almost never contacted them unless necessary.

"Call me back," Garfield said, and then cut off his communicator's frequency.

"Right," Victor hummed, more to himself than to Garfield, seeing as the changeling was no longer present. Bracing himself, Victor accepted Raven's call and chimed, "Hey there, girl!"

"Cyborg," came Raven's even and placid tone filtering through his car's speakers.

Victor grinned. Nothing ever baffled or bothered Raven, which was why she was so good at handling them — _grounding _them. They all had such volatile personalities. "Wazzzzzzzzzz uuuuuuuuuuuup?!" he slurred wildly.

She merely raised a brow. The braid looked well on her. She was _living_ more now. They were all learning to live without the others, but it was not such a bad thing. It would only make them stronger — _together_.

"It's Robin," Raven replied blandly.

His grasp on the steering wheel tightened. _"Ah... Robin."_

Five months.

_"Soon."_

He might be living, but it was not complete. They were a part of each other, but fragmented now. It had been seven months since anyone had last spoken to Robin. Robin... ever elusive, ever hard-headed, ever self-depreciating.

"What happened?" Victor asked after some length.

"He's distressed," Raven explained. "And now silence." Raven actually shifted then and that was enough to have Victor's inner alarms blaring red.

"I'll contact the Bat," Victor finalized.

Raven nodded. "Thank you."

They signed off. Victor was rankled.

Robin... ever troublesome.

He sighed.

For caution sake, Victor parked the car at a nearby Bed and Breakfast and waited a beat before picking up his laptop. His fingers were twitching as he connected his T-communicator to the tech and booted them up. He, above the others, had a particular... _distaste_ for the Bat. It didn't help that the billionaire had short-circuited him that one time.

Victor scowled, and then vindictively started to hack through the Justice League systems. (In some ways, it was similar to the Tower's systems, thanks to a Bird.) It didn't take him long to find the Bat, seeing as he had had practice over the past few months of doing this. The Dark Knight could tell them to stay away, but they were still rebellious teens — and rebellious _superhero_ teens were even harder to control.

He smirked when the Bat's communicator started ringing. The caped crusader could not ignore him for long... They only contacted him when it was necessary — when _Robin_ was in trouble.

Victor straightened his face when the Bat finally picked up.

"Mr. Stone," the Batman stated, eyes narrowed and voice hard.

Victor almost grinned.

#

"_QUIET!"_

#

Raven ended the conversation with Cyborg, her balance restored. She trusted Cyborg — _all of them_ — to play their parts and play their parts well. Five more months, and they could finally drop the façade and breathe easier. Bruce's restrictions were choking them — hindering more than helping. It was stunting their growths.

Sighing, she pushed her braid off her shoulder and left it swinging behind her. It was time to face the children. She moved to the gates, with plans of leaving the courtyard and to the outsides of the temple, when her communicator sounded. She paused, and then groaned. She may be more sociable than before, but _damn_ did she not love her silence.

Sobering, she knew that it couldn't have been Starfire or Cyborg; she had just finished speaking with them.

"_Beast Boy,"_ she surmised. It always was Beast Boy interrupting her quietness, and she was proved right when she opened the communicator and saw Beast Boy's grinning face. He had gotten handsomer over the months, not that she would ever admit to it.

"Hiya, Raven!" Beast Boy quipped, his teeth sharp and, strangely, harmless.

"Beast Boy," Raven deadpanned. "What do you want?"

He wasn't hurt. This was their usual banter.

"So I was just talking to Cy-"

Raven rolled her eyes. The boys were always glued together. What one knew, the others would too.

(But then again, Raven and Starfire were thick as thieves too.)

"-and then you called, and you _never_ call, so I'm just wondering: what's up!"

Beast Boy was smiling, but Raven could tell that it was strained. She knew that she never called, only when it was serious or troubling. It was such a tell of hers, one call and they would all be scrambling to keep their heads above water, but Raven was never one to start needless conversations.

"It's Robin," she said. They never lied anymore. Lying was hindering. "Cyborg is contacting Bruce."

Beast Boy flinched at the name. He preferred "Batman."

Names held too much power.

"Okay," the changeling said, contemplating this. "So everything's A-OK?"

"Yes," Raven assured.

"Hmm…" Beast Boy was in his thinking pose.

Nothing good ever came out of his thinking pose.

"So I was thinking-"

"Goodbye, Beast Boy."

"-you should visit-!"

And then she closed the communicator.

She briefly contemplated in calling Beast Boy back, but then thought better of it. If it was important, the sprite could just convince Starfire to pester her instead. Chuckling, Raven pocketed the communicator and left the courtyard. The device was warm and weighty against her thigh, reminding her of just how _close_ they all were.

#

"_I suppose I could team up… just this once."_

#

WASHINGTON, D.C.

July 5, 00:32 EDT

Robin was tense, his limbs locking up as if someone was choking him and thrashing him and tearing into him. The words, so didactic and factual, had left him feeling uneasy and vulnerable. It was then when he saw him — _really _saw him — the clone: the Super Boy. The replica of the original. Not as good, not as perfect, but so full of will and curiosity. And the deadness. The emptiness. The nothingness that could be filled. The potential and that sinister darkness beneath that could so easily be cultivated for good… or for evil.

_He was like that once_.

After they had avenged his parents, he wondered what else he had left. His guardian and superior had wanted him to continue to fight crime, but… really… all he wanted was to sleep. All he wanted to do was feel nothing and succumb to silence. With no more purpose, it was either to feel nothing… or feel _everything_.

To hurt. To scare. To haunt.

_Anything_ just for a new purpose.

A purpose that was not the Bat's, but his own.

His very own purpose.

The Bat had not understood.

So he left.

Wandered the countryside.

Searched for something new.

… And found something beyond his wildest dreams.

A new city.

A new team.

A new identity superimposed over the old.

… A new _family_.

They had filled him up. They had revived him. They had placed something good and kind and light inside of him.

They had cultivated him for good.

And as Robin searched the Super Boy for something — _something_ remotely like _hope_ — he realized that the Super Boy may not ever have the chance that had been given to him. Starfire's persistence. Cyborg's steadiness. Beast Boy's optimism. Raven's wisdom.

"To be like Superman is a worthy aspiration," Aqualad agreed, speaking to the Super Boy, "but, like Superman, you deserve a life of your own beyond that solar suit, beyond that pod, beyond Cadmus."

The Super Boy did not have a _family_.

"I live because of Cadmus! It is my home!" the Super Boy roared.

"Your home is a test tube," Robin clipped.

Alarm flashed in Kid Flash's eyes. The speedster wanted to intervene before the Bird got any crueller or colder or merciless. It had already been frightening enough with his silence and icy gaze.

"But we can show you the sun," Robin said.

Starfire.

"And the earth."

Cyborg.

"And the sky."

Beast Boy.

Kid Flash smiled, small and bittersweet. He recognized the softness in Robin's tone; it was the same softness he used when speaking of the others, of being with them. Chuckling, Kid Flash felt right to say, "I think you're forgetting something, Robin." _Someone_. "It's after midnight now, so we can only show you the moon — _right now_."

Raven.

They may be apart, but never _apart_.

"We can show you, introduce you, to Superman."

It was Aqualad who sealed their fates…

…and their lives.

#

"_We're not five heroes. We're one team."_

#

The lab was destroyed. Huge chunks of concrete, twisted metal and upended earth lay sprawled across the land like a war gone awry. There was no sophistication to the destruction, no plan, only hurt where hurt was thought due and foolish destruction. It looked like some child — _"Children,"_ he corrected — had thrown a tantrum.

Batman took note of this from his high perch, a broken piece of concrete that towered all the rest. The children had been removed, albeit not as easily as he had first thought, and all there was now was the skeleton of what was Project Cadmus.

When he had received the call from Victor Stone, he had been sceptical of the boy's concern. One word of "Raven," and Batman knew better than to dally. (Raven and Robin shared something Batman could not separate.) Fortunately, the issue of Woten had been resolved, and he made short work of finding Robin's location. The GPS pointing to Cadmus was enough to alarm the League.

What awaited them… had alarmed them even further.

Instead of being apologetic or worried, the young… superheroes, he supposed… had been rebellious.

"Cadmus will be investigated," he had told them. "All fifty-two levels. But let's make one thing clear-"

"You should've called," Flash had interrupted.

Needless to say, Batman had been bereft. "End results aside," he'd continued, "we're not happy. You hacked Justice League systems, disobeyed direct orders, and endangered lives. You will not be doing this again."

It was, surprisingly, _Aqualad_ who had stepped forward to say, "I am sorry, but we will."

"Aqualad," Aquaman had commanded, "stand down."

"Apologies, my king, but no," Aqualad had said firmly. "We did good work here tonight, the work you trained us to do. Together, on our own, we forged something powerful — _important_."

"If this is about your treatment at the Hall, the three of you…" Flash had begun.

"It's not," Kid Flash had said, lips pressed and definite. "You've taught me — _us_ — everything. And now we're ready to go on our own…"

'_Again_' had been left unsaid, but they understood. It had been — _was_ — something heavy that weighed over the mentors and their mentees for quite some time. And as they'd continued with their back-and-forth, Batman had been watching Robin… and Robin had been watching Batman.

The Caped Crusader had been taken back to that night again — rain, lightning, swollen cheeks and bruised fists — and how Robin had decided that he'd had enough of him. Robin had decided that he'd find his own path — _forge is own way_. What Batman had feared then, watching his protégé walk away from everything they were and was, was that Robin may never be his Robin again.

Never be a Robin filled with laughter and life.

But he had been wrong. Batman had been wrong.

Robin had found something more than just the two of them. He had found four others just like him: lost, desperate and full of hope. And Batman had torn them apart, separated them. It had been a miscalculation on his part, Batman admitted, as he had hoped that Robin would bond with the League the same as he had bonded with the other teens.

But it was not the same.

The League was not _them_.

So while the others had been exchanging words, as the other mentors tried to impress the serverity of the situation to their mentees, Batman understood that it was time to — _at least attempt to_ — return a little of _them_ back to Robin.

For Robin may go off on his own again, and this time… there might not be a _them_ to catch him at all.

"Why let them tell us what to do?" the Super Boy had demanded. "It's simple. Get on board or get out of the way."

Robin had not given any outward signs of agreeing with the clone, but Batman understood his protégé more than what his protégé gave him credit for.

"Very well," Batman had agreed.

The others had been shocked.

But not Robin.

_Never_ Robin.

"We will not fail you," Robin had stated.

They both knew that it was not the same.

The League was not the Titans.

#

"_That's quite a view."_

"_Somebody oughta build a house out here."_

"_Yeah, if you like __sunshine__ and the beach..."_

"_[__Laughs__]__ You know, you're kind of funny."_

"_You think I'm funny? Woohoo! Dude, I know some jokes!"_

#

The innards of Mount Justice were heavier than the Hall of Justice. The stone, the earth, the history… Robin would've felt suffocated if the others hadn't been by his side. They were all in civilian clothes, listening to Batman speak. It did not take long for Robin to locate all the computers, wiring and mechanics of this recently reopened secret base.

The sidekicks were to be trained under the League's best. They were to be the League's covert team, only going on missions assigned from Batman himself. Robin allowed it. It was a compromise.

Because they both knew…

"The five of you will be that team," Batman affirmed.

Robin looked up. _Five_?

"Five?" Kid Flash — Wally — enquired, as if reading Robin's thoughts.

Batman looked to the Zeta-Beam entrance behind the young superheroes and it soon activated to admit two others: Martian Manhunter and…

"This is Martian Manhunter's niece," Batman introduced. "Miss Martian."

Robin narrowed his eyes, contemplating this new character. She was gentle and pretty, her skin a Martian green and hair long and brown. She had that girl-next-door vibe, but Robin was not about to discount her abilities.

A look to Batman, a simple flash from his peripheral, and Robin understood. Another concession.

_Five_.

Like _them_.

"Hi," Miss Martian greeted, shy and optimistic.

But they both knew that, even with the concessions…

"We're looking more and more like a team," Wally said, grinning with a nod.

They were not the Titans.

#

"_I thank you all for your bravery and help, and I wish to ask permission to remain here where the people are most strange, but also most kind."_

"_You don't need our permission."_

"_But if you want our friendship, you've got it."_

"_I guess we could all use some new friends."_

"_Besides, we kind of make a good team."_

#

**Author's Note: It's so good that it fucking hurts. Why am I doing this to myself?**

**the point**


End file.
